Poem by Scott Thomas Outlar
flesh feels like bone
blue chills and white cloth
fabric of winter
shaven clean
until old scars show
on the surface
and bleed anew
along with cuts made fresh
smooth blades of aloe
soothe the lines marked by time
focus sharpened
across each hour
spent in hibernation
eyes of the chin and cheeks
naked and open
seek the sun
sweet kisses of shadow
weep gently
from the sting
of lashing winds
as the veil between
suffering and joy
is lifted
blind skin
married to visions
birthed by the source
at an altar of light
sacrificial spirits
sing ancient hymns
with the ghosts of life
at the sight
of a grave
thank God
we never dug
too deep
Scott Thomas Outlar is originally from Atlanta, Georgia. He now lives and writes in Frederick, Maryland. His work has been nominated multiple times for both the Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net. He guest-edited the Hope Anthology of Poetry from CultureCult Press as well as the 2019-2023 Western Voices editions of Setu Mag.
